


i'll keep you safe here

by grootmorning



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Series, post season two, rated m for the last chapter, there are a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grootmorning/pseuds/grootmorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More often than not, Karen finds herself tending to Frank's many wounds. But not all wounds are physical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one.

Karen locked the door behind her before she dropped off the letters she collected onto the side table. It was still disconcerting having to get used to the sheer amount of new things - the new apartment, the new furniture, even the new clothes.

"I'm not ungrateful," Karen told Ellison. "Don't get me wrong, I love the new job; it's just different from my old life."

"Good. Different is good. And I'm glad you like the job, because let's be real, you could rival Ben Urich in researching, and you'd probably win," Ellison stuck his hands into his pants pockets lazily, kicking her office door shut on the way out.

There were the days where she missed Nelson and Murdock. Foggy emerged from his corner office once in awhile to meet her for lunch but Matt was off ... doing whatever Matt was doing. She wasn't sure how she felt about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen now that she knew who it actually was behind the mask, or the lengths he would go to to keep a secret. Not that he wasn't doing good, kinda, but seeing things from Fra - The Punisher's side of things; Karen wasn't really sure if killing was avoidable anymore.

The version of herself in that tiny room with James Wesley would know all about it.

Taking a glass out from a cupboard, Karen uncorked a bottle. She wasn't sure which bottle it was to be honest, but it was a bottle of alcohol and it was enough for her. She just needed the oblivion it provided for her to go to bed. 

One sip, two sips. Karen pressed the cool glass to her forehead as she gripped the kitchen counter.

"Ma'am?"

Karen regretted to say that she let out a sharp shriek before whirling around and pitching the glass towards wherever the sound came from.

Frank - of course it was Frank - simply ducked and let the glass shatter against the wall behind him. He stared right back at her. His hulking figure cast such a large shadow that the light from the streets that usually streamed through her windows seemed non-existent.

There was a small upturn in his lips as he set down the monster of a gun that had grown to be associated with him. "You always throw glasses at people who come to visit?"

She swallowed, a couple of times, before she found her voice steady enough to speak. "I do when they don't call ahead."

His face fell just a little before firming up again. There was little warmth in her voice, but really, what exactly was he expecting? "I didn't wake up this morning intending to break into your house," he raised his arms in surrender, a small smiling pulling at the corners of his mouth as he did so. "I happened to be in the neighbourhood."

"I guess I'll read about it in the morning," Karen rubbed at her arms, at the goosebumps that had formed at the low gruff sound of Frank's voice. The sound of Frank's boots crunching glass reminded her of the mess and she grabbed the nearest washcloth. Her sudden movement had him looking down at the mess as well, and by the time she got there, he was already picking the glass off the floor.

She quickly used the washcloth to take the glass pieces from him. "You'll cut yourself. Here, give them to me."

Instead of replying, Frank simply stood up and took the washcloth from her. With his free hand, he grasped her elbow and brought her over to the couch to sit. "It's fine, ma'am." He picked up all the bigger pieces of glass before looking around for something else to sweep the remaining glass up. Karen tried to get up to point him towards the broom but he glared at her until she sat down again. Seeing no point in trying again, Karen slipped her shoes off and curled her feet under her. She sank her tired toes into the soft material, watching as Frank swept her floor clean and disposed of all the glass pieces.

Coming back into the room, he stood by the wall where his gun rested. His stance, Karen thought as she considered him, the Punisher was unsure of himself.

"Frank," she began, and he turned to grunt his attention. "What are you doing here?"

"I said, I happened to be in the neighbourhood."

"That doesn't explain anything."

"Does it have to?"

"Yes," she put her feet down and stood to her feet. Frank looked tense, like he did before the fight in the diner, like he was ready for something to happen. "You left, Frank. Where'd you go?"

"I was around," he stared down at her. His eyes weren't betraying anything but if Red was in the room, oh he'd have a lot to say about his heartbeat.

There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again. "You really shouldn't have an apartment with a fire escape right outside. 'S not safe."

Karen rubbed her arms unconsciously. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to explain herself really, it was her choice, but she did anyway. "I don't like the idea of the door being the only escape route."

The look of understanding on Frank's face was more than enough and she looked away. Memories of the never-ending gunshots hitting the wall flashed into her mind and she cleared her throat.

Frank shifted his weight and the light from outside caught his face. Blood stained his cheek from a cut just above his brow. Of course he came to her after a fight, Karen wasn't sure why she had expected any different. She spared a moment to wonder who it was in her neighbourhood that needed his attention but quickly put those thoughts aside. It was evident that she wasn't much help in a kidnapping situation or a firefight, but maybe in this she could be of some use after all.

"That needs to be tended to. Sit, I'll get some antiseptic."

"It's fine, I'll deal with it."

" _Frank_ , sit." If she thought she could have gotten away with it, she would have taken him by the shoulders and forced him onto the couch. But Karen simply shook her head and made her way into the bathroom. "You take care of everyone in Hell's Kitchen, once in awhile you ought to sit and let someone just clean you up."

The small first aid kit in her hands felt like it weighed a ton when she emerged from the bathroom to find her apartment empty and the window to the fire escape open and swinging. Faint black residue that was on the wall where his gun lay was all the evidence that remained of his presence here just a mere few seconds ago.

It took her another few seconds to gather herself and set the kit down, before dipping a tissue in some water and wiping the mark off the wall.

It was like it was never there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know I said tending. But Frank's not going to be vulnerable right off the bat is he?  
> aka 'I meant this to be a one-shot but it has morphed into a monster'.  
> Kudos/comments are love.


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It may be the first time but it probably won't be the last.

The next time Frank turned up in her apartment, it was with a loud crash, a whole lot of glass and a broken fire escape window.

Karen bolted upright in her bed, hand already going towards the gun she kept stashed in easy reach in the bedside drawer. She checked to see if it was loaded before slipping her feet into bedroom slippers and padding gently towards her ajar bedroom door. Tiptoeing around that one floorboard that always creaked, Karen pressed herself to the wall beside the door. She took a deep breath, pushed the door open and dropped low, hands slightly shaking but always tight on the gun.

In the next second, she had dropped the gun onto the coffee table, running over to where Frank had fallen onto his side.

“Frank, what the hell!”

A low grunt. What else did she expect, a long thesis on his whereabouts?

“Frank!” She rolled him over, wincing as the glass crunched below his heavy padded suit. Patting him down, Karen shuddered as her hand brushed against his side, coming away slick with blood. “Oh, god.”

The wind blew through her broken window and she shuddered again, this time from the cold. Frank turned, trying to avoid it and snarled as he rolled across shards of glass. 

“Don’t move.”

Where else did she expect him to go? Frank wanted to snap back but the pain in his side burrowed further into his body and he flopped onto his back, his ever-present gun falling with a clatter into the corner.

Karen grabbed a shawl from across her couch, draping it hurriedly across her shoulders as she dashed for the bathroom. Were her hands shaking from the cold or the adrenaline? She didn’t know and she tried to ignore it as she yanked the first-aid kit out and headed back into the living room.

As promised, he hadn’t moved (or couldn't) and Karen used her slippers to gingerly clear and kick away as much of the glass from around him as she could. Judging it to be relatively clear, she sat by his side, pressing again for the stab wound she’d found when checking him. All she found was blood, so much blood.

“Frank, you have to take the armour off, I can’t see where the blood is coming from.”

No answer. But he winced as her fingers probed.

“Frank, take it off or I’ll cut it off then where will you be without another piece of kevlar to spray paint that white ass skull on?” Karen snapped, pushing off the ground to grab a bowl and fill it with warm water. She threw a cloth in it.

By the time she’d returned, Frank was struggling to undo the clasps at his shoulders and she helped with the last remaining bits. Once the armour had fallen to the ground, she took the scissors in the kit and cut the bottom of his shirt apart. If he had any complaints, he didn’t voice them.

The wound wasn’t shallow, but it didn’t look life threatening either. Then again, what did Karen know? She was a journalist not a doctor. She wiped away as much of the blood as she could before staunching it first with a warm cloth then a dry one. Tossing the cloths aside, she mentally condemned them and semi-hysterically made a note to drop by the linen store on her next shopping day.

Her fingers shook as she tried to thread the needle and Karen dropped her hands for a moment, breathing hard through her nose. It was too much blood, too much responsibility, she couldn't do this. Not to Frank. A weight rested on her knee and she looked up to see Frank wearily resting his hand there. His eyes were half shuttered, but he swallowed a couple of times, intent on saying something.

"You don’t have to do it.”

Karen inhaled another breath of crisp night air. She clenched her fists, careful not to stab herself with the needle she was holding. Looking at the blood, all that blood that stained her floor, Karen looked back at Frank, struggling to stay awake. “I do, and you know it.”

On the third try, the surgical thread went through and Karen steeled herself before actually piercing Frank’s flesh with the needle. After the first stitch, her hands steadied and she worked methodically, closing up as much of the wound as she could. Cutting the thread, she let the needle drop back into the first-aid box, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. She'd tried not to look at Frank while she was stitching him up but she knew it must had hurt him, unskilled as she was. Karen allowed herself one sniff before she got up to grab some warm water from her kitchen.

“Can you sit up?”

Blinking hard, Frank shoved at the ground with one hand, moving to rest against the side of the couch instead. Watching the wound shift and threaten to split open again, Karen snatched up the damp towel and pressed it against his side.

“I asked if you could. If you couldn’t, just say something you prick,” Karen shoved the glass of water at him. “Drink. You need fluids.”

She went searching for her broom. The glass shards were too big to be picked up by hand and she couldn't risk Frank around all that cut glass while he was still unsteady on his feet. As she swept up what she could and kicked to the corner what she couldn't, Karen kept a watchful eye on Frank. He was moving slowly, but surely sipping at the water she'd brought him.

Ten minutes later, she stood by him, tapping her foot until he looked up at her before she flung a blanket across him and dropped a large shirt into his lap. "It's the largest piece of clothing I have, and in black too, so that should work for you. The blanket's for the cold, since my window's broken. Don't - " Karen glared at him as Frank opened his mouth, " - you even dare think of leaving. Not with that fresh wound."

Karen continued, "Now, I wouldn't offer my bed because I know you wouldn't take it even if I did, so you may stay right there on the floor so I only have one blood stained area to clean tomorrow morning and I will sleep on my comfortable couch to keep an eye on you in case you do bleed or pass out."

 The other blanket in her arms she threw out over the couch and curled up into it, pillowing her head on the armrest by which Frank rested. Feeling just that little bit bold in her tiredness, Karen let a hand drop by where his own hand was resting on the floor. Two fingers on his wrist, she felt his pulse beating, slightly erratic but strong, and more importantly, there. And with that little sense of constant, she felt herself drift back off to sleep

-

The next morning, Karen was woken up by her alarm beeping faintly from her bedroom and the strong smell of coffee wafting over from the mug set on her coffee table. Her hand pulled weakly at the note next to it. She blinked.

_Cleaned up the blood and glass. Taped up your window. Cleaned the grease my gun left on the wall too. Thanks for the stitches. I made breakfast. - F.C._

The coffee was still warm verging on hot; Frank must have just barely left. Karen sat up slowly, hugging the blanket to herself as she noted the other, folded and placed on the armrest where her head was resting. _  
_

There were fresh eggs and sausages on her kitchen counter and no dirty dishes in sight.

Karen smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found my writing muse again and I'm going to try and update more regularly :) hand on heart, swear to the marvel gods. let me know what you think?
> 
> tumblr: [here](http://ltfrankcastle.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [here](http://twitter.com/ltfrankcastie)


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Karen suffered wounds too.

A loud creak. “Ma’am?”

Karen’s grip tightened on the porcelain of her sink. Maybe if she didn’t say anything, he would think she wasn’t home.

“Ma’am.” It wasn’t a question this time. “I see your things, I know you’re home. If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to assume someone’s holding you hostage and start clearing rooms.” His mild tone belied the threat underneath and Karen belatedly realised that she’d left her purse on the counter on her way in.

She took a deep breath. There was probably no avoiding it. “I’m in the bathroom. Do you need something?”

A pause. “You fixed the window. Good.”

“Couldn’t very well leave me open to the cold now, could I?” Karen stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink, her teeth sinking deeply into her lip and chewing it. Would he leave? Please, let him leave.

“Ma'am.” His voice was closer this time. A distinctive click of his gun. “I’m going to open the door now.”

Karen closed her eyes. Here it comes.

Frank pushed the door open. In a last ditch effort, she kept her head down, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, because she knew what was going to happen.

His hand, slightly rough with calluses that she knew were from the constant use of weaponry and violence, but so tender now with her, took her chin and turned her face towards him.

“Who did this?” Karen shook her head but his grip held her fast. Her eyes opened to what she already knew she would find. Frank’s face was twisted and unhappy and his next words came out in a near snarl. “Who did this to you?”

His other hand came up to brush across the blotchy bruise spreading from from her nose to her right cheekbone, already turning ugly shades of purple and green. The split in her lip threatened to bust open again as Karen’s mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find some words, any words, to say. Karen’s hands covered his and pulled them gently away from her face. Frank raised them to her face again stubbornly. His fingers feathered out over the bruise again, thumbs sweeping over it gently again and again, as if he could just wipe it away. Something dark and angry clouded his eyes and it scared Karen.

“Frank, I - “

He repeated his question again, like a dog with a bone. “Who. Did. This.”

“You weren’t supposed to see,” she whispered.

“That's not an answer." Dropping his hands, Frank clenched them at his side as Karen pushed out of the bathroom past him. He watched her head straight for the pack of frozen peas in the freezer. It was usually reserved for his face. Frank strode over in an instant, snatching them out of her hands and pressing them gently to her face. "So you would have just patched yourself up and not told me about it?”

“It’s not so different from what you do.” Karen’s eyes bore holes into him.

“’S not the same.”

“It is the same and you know it.”

With his other hand, Frank grabbed her phone off the counter, flicking through her last few calls and messages.

Karen made a desperate lunge for it. “Frank!”

Her fingers missed his by a hair’s breadth and Frank found the message telling her to meet a source in some alleyway, to come alone, and bring money. Obviously, that had gone south.

Growling under his breath, Frank grabbed Karen’s hand and pressed it to the peas. “Hold this,” he snapped.

In three quick strides, he was at her fire escape, grabbing his bag where he’d dumped it before coming to check on her. With a change of mind, Frank dropped it again, covering the distance back to where Karen was now standing with a bag of frozen peas on her face in heavy steps.

“Why did he hit you?”

“He - “

“There must have been a reason. Were you writing a story on him? Did he want you to stop? Or was he looking to rob you?”

“No! He was a source. He just - ,” Karen trailed off, her eyes focusing at a certain point past Frank’s head and a sudden fear seized him, coiled down his throat and sat in his gut.

“Did he touch you?”

The silence in her apartment was deafening. The fear sitting in his gut reached out and twisted around his heart. Before he'd even realised it, Frank had reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Frank," Karen whispered, her hair swinging forward to hide her face. "You’re hurting me.”

“Then answer me. Did he put his hands on you?” Frank shook her a little, forcing her to meet his eyes.

Karen shook her head. “I got away before he - “

That signified intent. And it was enough for Frank. He released Karen and stormed back to her fire escape, picking up his things along the way.

Frank ignored the cries of his name from behind him; he had a mission to complete.

-

It’d been five hours. The scumbag hadn't been hard to track down to be honest, but Frank had relished drawing out the beating. The few girls he managed to release from the shithole he’d found the scumbag in was a plus too. He wore the blood on his knuckles like a badge of honour. 

He slipped in as quietly as he could. Creeping over as silently as he could to her small kitchen, Frank found the peas back in the freezer.

A small smile touched his lips as he caught sight of the note that he’d left for her when he’d left her apartment previously before first light, leaving breakfast in his wake.

_Cleaned up the blood and glass. Taped up your window. Cleaned the grease my gun left on the wall too. Thanks for the stitches. I made breakfast. - F.C._

It obviously meant enough to her that she’d kept it.

He made his way into her bedroom, and felt his heart stop when he found it empty. Sheets were still neat, bed still made; Karen hadn’t been in here.

Whirling around, Frank’s brain went into tracker mode. In a blink, he’d already came up a plan on how to track her down. But it was erased just as quickly as he picked up on shuffling noises coming from the living room.

He hadn’t seen her before because she was curled up into a ball on the floor in front of her couch, chin pressed to her knees. She must have been sleeping or dozing because she was rubbing at her eyes and Frank thought it was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen.

Sappy bastard.

"Hey," Frank raised his hands as she started. "It's just me, ma'am."

"I know it's you, Frank. Literally nobody else calls me ma'am." Karen clutched her knees to her chest a little bit tighter, curling her toes in that rug that she hated when she'd first gotten the apartment but needed to cover the dingy floor. 

It was clear that she wasn't about to move any time soon so he got down on the floor next to her, leaving some distance between them. With his boot, he slowly pushed his bag behind the couch they were at. Silence fell and he wondered if he should not have returned. "You mad at me?"

Karen sighed, "You bleed in my apartment on a regular basis and drink my coffee. I'm always mad at you."

Frank grunted. Couldn't fault her logic. He made to get up but her arm snaked out and grabbed his wrist. Sliding closer, Karen raised her hand to turn Frank's face left and right, just as he did to her. 

The cut on his temple was still fresh but his nose was only bruised not broken. "You need stitches." She made no move to get the first aid kit.

Light from outside caught her face as she turned back, and this time it was Frank's turn to catch her arm. "You've been crying." It wasn't a question. "For what? A piece of shit like me?"

"Nobody said I was crying for you, don't get all puffed up on that," Karen retorted. She looked long and hard at the bruises on his knuckles, daring to drop a light kiss to one of them. 

Frank's breath stuttered and he pulled his arm back. 

"Did you kill him?"

Somehow, she always knew when he was telling the truth. There was no way for Frank to lie to her. He nodded. 

The breath left her in a shuddering whoosh and she tucked her chin back into her knees. "Good."

It was like a weight had been lifted off Frank's shoulders.

She patted the space next to her and Frank allowed himself to shift a little bit closer to sit next to her. They let the silence fall around them again. It was comfortable, almost peaceful. 

And it was Karen that broke it first. "I wanted to do it."

Frank's head whipped around so fast he swore he heard an audible snap.

"I really wanted to but I heard people around and I couldn't. So I ran," Karen tucked her hair behind her ears and looked up at him. A small laugh escaped her. "What a coward huh."

The cut on his temple hurt like a bitch as he shook his head, hard. "No, ma'am. It was the smart thing to do. You could have gotten hurt or caught."

"I was just roughed up. But you - " Karen trailed off as she touched her fingers to the cut again, leaning in. Her fingers came away stained red and she swiped it on his shirt. "You got hurt for me."

"I would do it again," Frank retorted fiercely. "Don't get hurt."  _I'll do it for you instead_ went unsaid and hung in the air between them. Frank couldn't begin to describe the fear that had permeated his entire being at the thought of her getting hurt again, getting raped, getting taken, even getting a scratch. It scared him. He didn't realise that he'd begun to care for her this much.

Karen came closer, her eyes shining suspiciously brightly again. "You shouldn't increase your sins because of me."

Fuck it. It was late, she was obviously hurting. He wanted this so bad, he could taste it. He could taste her. Karen was looking at him like he hung the moon for her. But in reality, she was the sun.

Wrapping a reverent hand around her jaw, he dropped his head, leaning in closer to her. "That option went out the window when you stepped across the line."

Karen's breath hitched, and not because Frank was thumbing at her bruised cheek. She tilted her chin up, accepting his kiss as she tucked herself closer in to his side. Karen clutched at his shirt, her fingers moving across hard armour to grasp at soft cloth, anchoring herself as Frank slanted his lips across hers, kissing her desperately. His tongue swiped across the cut in her lip and she whimpered, pulling him closer. Frank let his fingers tangle in her hair as he kissed her harder, clutched her closer, but it still wasn't close enough.

With every stitch Karen had put in Frank's skin, with every "Ma'am" he respectfully gave her, they had fit themselves into each other's lives, slowly and surely. This had probably been a long time coming.

It was like they had both been standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering. 

Frank had finally taken the step of faith, and down they went together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have many feelings come vibe with me
> 
> tumblr: [here](http://ltfrankcastle.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [here](http://twitter.com/ltfrankcastie)


	4. four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their relationship had crossed a line, and there was no going back  
> -  
> The fic is rated M because of this chapter.

Karen blinked her tired eyes open, trying to get used to the sunlight streaming in through her window. It was a Saturday, one of the first quiet Saturdays she had in awhile, away from chasing down sources, writing articles, doing groceries. She'd planned for a quiet Saturday in, before everything - last night had happened.

The warmth around her waist tightened and she looked down in mild surprise and confusion. An arm in a long sleeved black shirt. And she knew exactly who it was.

She turned in his arms, in her bed, to look up at him.

Frank looked peaceful in sleep. The furrows between his eyebrows had relaxed, and the lines around his mouth were soft. Karen took a minute or two just to watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep, listening to his breath. He must have been exhausted.

Frank had told her once that he woke at the slightest disturbance, after years of conditioning in the Marines and after the waking nightmares that he'd experienced. That he'd felt safe enough to completely relax here, with her, in her bed, and not stir, made Karen's chest thick with emotion. The cut had finally stopped bleeding, and the stitches that she'd put in were holding. His nose was back to normal.

The first aid had finally been administered after Karen had extricated herself from his arms. Frank had wanted to hold on to her, reaching for her even as she'd pulled away.

"Not gonna bleed to death," he mumbled against her hair.

It was Karen who couldn't bear the pain. And so she'd stitched him up, just as before.

If her hands shook this time with pain not nervousness, she didn't tell him. 

She pulled herself out of his arms once again, itching for a shower. Stepping around his boots carefully, Karen shut the door as quietly as she could, before heading for her bathroom.

Her mind was still whirling from the kisses that they'd shared. They would have to have a conversation about it soon. What were they? What were they to him? If it'd hurt watching Frank get hurt before, it would be nothing compared to the future, Karen was sure of it. 

She needed to tell him. She never meant to replace Maria. That was never, and will never be, her intention. With a hint of desperation on her lips, Karen squeezed her eyes shut and offered up a plea to a ghost. 

If he wanted this, then she would do everything in her power to protect him and give him happiness. That was all she wanted. And if he didn't, she would let him go without a word.

It would hurt her, but Karen never saw the point in keeping someone who was forced to be around her.

Maybe that's why she was alone most of her life.

She pressed a hand to her mouth as she refused to let her mind drift to - . That was in the past now. Her clothes were left on the floor as she tested the shower temperature. 

They smelt like Frank.

The heat from the water soothed her aching muscles and released the tension thrumming under her skin. She pressed her fingers to the split in her lip, feeling it sting a little. The bruise on her cheekbone had dulled to an ache that only flared up in pain when she moved her cheek muscles too much. Maybe not too much smiling in the near future then. 

Karen let the water cascade down her back as she remembered Frank slowly running his tongue over the split in her lip. She'd whimpered and pressed herself closer to him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. The low ache in her belly returned as she remembered how tender he was with her last night. 

They'd kissed for what seemed like forever, before Karen's head was drooping with sleep. Sweeping her up into a bridal carry, Frank had brought them to the bedroom where he'd tucked her in and whispered for her to go to sleep. Frank had actually wanted to leave and go sleep on the couch. What a ridiculous man. It didn't take many tugs on his wrist before he'd unlaced his boots and crawled in behind her.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door. Karen was startled out of her thoughts and her hands stilled, hugging herself.

She tried to speak, but had to clear her throat twice before any sound could come out, "Come in." What was this nervousness?

Karen could see the hulking shadow of Frank from behind her shower curtain.

"Ma'am, I - "

"It's Karen."

"Karen."

"This is a bathroom," she stared at the shadow, hoping. But for what, she would not articulate to herself. "People use it for showering, so if you're not going to shower, I don't see why you have to be in here."

It took a minute, but she saw the shadow sigh and raise his arms to yank his shirt off, dropping it to the ground. There was the clinking of metal as his belt buckle hit the ground. 

Did it count as a point to her? Karen turned back to face the shower. Shower curtains were drawn aside with a squeak and she felt his warmth at her back rather than heard him climb in.

She raised her hands to squeeze the shampoo from her long hair, drawing it to one side. "Well?"

Silence.

"You could pass the soap." It was amazing how her voice was so calm when her insides were threatening to crawl out of her throat. She was taking a chance here. For all she knew, he could bolt and run in two seconds and she would never see him again. But gut instinct told her to try. And if she didn't try, she would never know. He was in the shower, wasn't he? That had to count for something.

Warm hands rubbed liquid soap into her shoulders and stroked down her back. Karen shuddered. That she didn't expect. 

His hands shifted from her lower back to her front, inching upwards before stopping. Karen took a step back, her back hitting solid warm muscle.

"Is this okay," he leaned down to murmur in her ear.

Of course, it was okay. "Yes," she breathed out, her skin tingling as his arms closed in around her, caging her in and closer to him. He was warmer than the water coming out of the shower and her skin broke out in goosebumps where his skin was touching hers. She shivered.

His hands skimmed across her belly, thumbs reaching up to stroke at the soft skin under her breasts. The movements were hesitant and careful, like Frank was afraid. Afraid of what, Karen couldn't say. Touching her, breaking her, maybe just of physical contact in general.

Trying to reassure him, she put her hands on his, raising them slowly to cover her breasts. Karen sighed at the contact, a hand going up and behind to pull Frank closer into her. He dropped his face down to her shoulder, nipping gently at the skin and kissing her neck.

Kneading at her breasts gently, Frank turned his head to whisper into her ear again, "I'm - it's - "

Of course he was unsure. "It's okay," Karen steadfastly ignored the feeling of slick between her thighs, and scratched at his neck gently, her other hand still resting across his patting it slowly. "We can take it slow. We could just finish the shower."

She released him. It would be a lie to say she wasn't slightly disappointed, but above all, she understood. And if Frank needed some time, then by god, she was going to give it to him. She never wanted to pressure him into anything. She was already beginning to turn and try to reach the soap again when he tightened his grip, a hand dropping to band around her waist while the other pressed her back into him. 

"Not letting you go so easily," the scruff on his face tickled and scratched pleasantly against her skin. Karen gasped as she felt the hand against her breasts drop slowly, seeking out the gap between her thighs. Apparently, Frank had no issue whatsoever with giving her pleasure.

Her knees went weak as Frank's fingers grazed her inner thighs, stroking and searching, as he slipped one finger gently into her, pumping it in and out. Teeth scraped at her neck as her head lolled back onto his shoulder. The slow ache in her belly grew, causing her to clench her thighs together trying to relieve it. Frank simply twisted his wrist, spreading her apart again. Her hands fluttered uselessly at her side, coming to rest again on the hand around her waist and the other back around his neck.

Karen pulled him down to her again, shifting him so his teeth would close over the pulse point in her neck, sending delicious shivers through her body. 

Frank inserted another finger into Karen, scissoring and stretching her inner walls. The little whimpering and soft gasps she made was music to his ears. If he had any previous thought about this part of himself dying when Ma - she had died, he was very wrong. It wasn't all women, it wasn't just any women, this was Karen. His Karen. Karen, who had stepped over a line, who had put her reputation on the line to defend him, to protect him. 

Karen.

Releasing her waist caused her to sag even further back against him. Even like this, she implicitly trusted him to support her. But he had to. Frank gripped her chin, turning her face towards him and pressing his lips to hers. Karen's eyes had slipped shut, mouth falling open in silent pants of pleasure. It was easy for him to lick his way in, twisting his tongue around hers. He felt her body tighten within his arms, pushing back up against him, seeking more of his kisses.

Karen's mouth fell open more as Frank slipped in another finger. "Frank," she gasped. "Frank."

Seeing her like this, Frank was driven with both a need to protect this women that he held dear in his arms and the need to be the only one to see her like this. The thought of anyone else - it filled with a murderous haze that he tamped down, trying to return to the moment. To her.

"Frank, I - "

"Let go."

Her hips pushed down against his hand, and Frank worked his fingers faster, working to bring her towards that blessed edge. "Come on, sweetheart. For me."

"Say my name."

"What?"

It was Karen's turn to drag her teeth across the stubble at his jaw, sending blood shooting down into Frank's nether regions, "Say my name."

He lowered his mouth to her ear again, letting his breath sweep over her hotly, "Karen."

Karen shuddered in his arms with a soft cry, her release washing over his hand.

The shower water had gone cold, and Karen stood on her shaky feet after Frank released her, instinctively pressing closer seeking warmth. She was afraid that she was going to fall, but then, a sense of calm filled her when she realised that Frank would never let her fall. His thumb stroked across her cheek, the one with the bruise, and it was so soft she barely felt any pain. 

Karen smiled sleepily, locking her arms around Frank's neck, "Hey, soldier."

He pressed his forehead to hers, his smile slowly growing to match hers. Turning the water off, he guided her out of the shower slowly, making sure she wasn't going to slip.

Before she knew it, she was back in bed, cuddling closer to Frank as he tucked the blankets around her once more. 

"Frank, you didn't - "

"It's fine," he pressed her face into his neck. She sighed again sleepily, feeling like all was right in the world. Her body was relaxed and loose, and her mind was free of worries for the first time in what felt like ages.

Frank dropped a kiss into her damp hair, feeling the weight of her settle into his chest and onto his aching heart. She was what he needed. She would soothe every ache, every wound, every pain, physical or not. He had to keep her safe. He would keep her safe. She was his now.

It was fine.

They had many days to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have very fond memories of this fic which i started in the immediate after math of daredevil s2 and only picked it back up again after the punisher aired if my memory serves me right. i hope my readers find some satisfaction in the ending, or at least as much as i found writing it :)
> 
> tumblr: [here](http://ltfrankcastle.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [here](http://twitter.com/ltfrankcastie)


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